


221B

by KayleeArafinwiel



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-07
Updated: 2013-11-14
Packaged: 2017-12-31 18:28:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1034975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KayleeArafinwiel/pseuds/KayleeArafinwiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Slices of life at 221B Baker Street from the TV show Sherlock, as they come to me. The main relationship is Johnlock friendship, though could likely be considered slash if you wanted to read it that way.</p><p>Some of these will be dfic (contain discipline of one, or possibly both of the 'boys'), because my muse does what it wants to do. I will mark them as such.</p><p>These will not be posted in chronological order necessarily; just in the order they come to me (though some will be sequels to other chapters). They will be tagged with the episode they occur in or follow, and (usually mild) spoilers can be assumed for said episode unless noted otherwise.</p><p>Plotbunnies (suggestions) welcome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Freak (Post-Reichenbach, 200 words)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Marta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marta/gifts), [sparx (cascadewaters)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cascadewaters/gifts).



“Freak,” she muttered, looking at a picture of Sherlock hanging on the wall at 221B.

John stilled. “What did you call him, _Sally_?” he enquired politely, though his gaze was hard as steel. His eyes, unflinching, held her nearly immobile.

“That’s _Sergeant Donovan_ to you,” the constable snapped, glaring at John insolently. _Freak too, just like the freak who’s conned him._

“You know what, I don’t think it is,” John said, striding toward her. Before Donovan had time to defend herself, John had whipped out his gun. She closed her eyes against the shot, knowing that her own weapon was out of reach, and silently prayed that wherever she ended up it would be without any _freaks._ The _crack_ that resounded in the room, though, wasn’t that of a bullet.

Mrs. Hudson and Inspector Lestrade entered at the same moment to find Sgt. Donovan sprawled on her back, bleeding from her mouth and the back of her head. John was kneeling over the unconscious woman, checking her dutifully. “Concussion,” he said, barely glancing up. “Knock to the head – bleeding’s not too bad. Jaw’s probably broken, though,” he added.

“John Hamish Watson!” Mrs. Hudson exclaimed. “What happened?”

“She called him… _freak.”_


	2. Mum (D scene, 100 words)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Follow up from "Freak" - after Lestrade took Donovan away, what did Mrs. Hudson have to say about John's behaviour?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quasi-parental discipline of a young adult. That means spanking. Don't like it, you don't have to read it - just please don't flame.

“Ow!”

“Oh, _enough_ of that, John Hamish Watson.” Mrs. Hudson landed another well-placed smack, though the force behind the spoon wasn’t all _that_ hard. As the young man she thought of as a foster-son – not that she let on – yelped, squirming, she peppered his bottom with smacks over his pants. “Enough nonsense, you deserve this, you know… striking a defenceless young woman.”

“Mrs. Hudson, please!” John protested. Being bent over the table was a very uncomfortable position. “She deserved it, you know.”

“John Hamish…”

“Please, no more!”

“No more, what?”

“Mum,” John whispered.

_That was unexpected._

“I forgive you, John.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't developed my Sherlock headcanon yet completely, but the muse suggested that for this AU, Mrs. Hudson is actually John's birth mother, a fact which the young Watson has only learned recently; he discovered it while burying himself in the internet while grieving for Sherlock. Mrs. Hudson, though, doesn't know yet. Anyway, we shall see if more comes of it.


	3. What's In A Name?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-spanking, a somewhat contemplative John ponders what he has recently discovered, and what it will mean for him now there's just two occupants of 221B.

 

John propped himself up on his elbows, lying facedown on Sherlock’s bed. It was still Sherlock’s bed, he thought fiercely. _Sherlock._ He desperately missed the detective, his true friend, one of the few people in the world he could call so. To have Sally dismiss him so callously…

He stopped, pausing the train of thought. _Sally,_ he said to himself. Why did he call her that? There were many reasons people could be placed on a first name basis. John called Sherlock by his first name because they were friends. Sally was definitely not a friend. Not a romantic interest – he snorted in derision. _Ruddy unlikely, after what she did, raking Sherlock over the coals like that so no one believed him and now he’s…_

He knew what Sherlock was. It just hurt to say it, to even think it. That was what had set him off. _Freak,_ she had said. Sherlock didn’t even rate a name to her – like he was a _thing,_ not a person. _Sergeant Donovan,_ she said. Yes, that’s why he avoided it. She was a human being, perhaps. But he was damned if he’d call her _Sergeant._

 _She_ didn’t rate a _title._ Not to him.

On the other hand, Mrs Hudson called her Sergeant Donovan – with that slight inflection that indicated disapproval, John noted with amusement. He doubted Sally even noticed it. She wouldn’t know Mrs Hudson – kind, good, Mrs Hudson – from anyone else. _She_ didn’t care about Mrs Hudson, _she_ didn’t care what Sherlock cared about. John sat up, wincing, and stretched. He went over to the laptop and opened the file he’d been reading. Adoption records. They told the tale of an unwed mother, a young woman who had little choice but to give up her son to the Watsons. Oh, he’d known; he’d always known, Harry had made no bones about keeping it from him, though she was sympathetic about it – but what his sister hadn’t been able to give him was her name, or her picture. As he stared at the photographs called up by the name, added the proper number of years onto it, he dug through the other records the name called up – marriage to Jeremiah Hudson, mysteriously widowed, returned to her close association with the blue-blooded Holmes clan – he read the truth again.

 _My mother,_ he thought. _Mrs Hudson, my mum._ They would have to be enough now.

 

 


	4. Queen of Baker Street

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Donovan’s recovered, she’s sent back to Baker Street and gets a lesson in manners. Will it take?

“Sergeant Donovan?”

The constable turned round to face the landlady of 221 Baker Street, eyeing her warily. “Mrs Harrison, is it?”

“Hudson, dear,” came the reply, but there was a _tone_ to it that Sally Donovan didn’t like. “ _Mrs_ Hudson. I do hope you’re feeling better.”

 _No, I feel like shite and it’s Captain Ruddy Watson’s fault._ “I’m on duty, aren’t I, Mrs Hudson?”

“I think you’d better try _ma’am,_ Sally.”

 _F*** all, just what I don’t need. Him._ “Watson.”

“You heard me, Sally. Why don’t you try again.”

 _What is she, the ruddy Queen?_ “Yes. Ma’am.”

_Sherlock Freak Holmes._


End file.
